


Turning on the light

by hippocrates460



Series: Clueless [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocrates460/pseuds/hippocrates460
Summary: Mycroft and Greg celebrate Christmas and discover that family is about choices.





	1. The 19th of November

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress! I love feedback, don't hesitate to let me know if I've made a cultural/linguistic mistake.

“Bad news?” Mycroft asks as Greg sits down with a sigh.

“Yeah, Michelle’s mum has gotten worse again. It’s going to be over soon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you get along?”

“Not at all,” Greg laughs “I was never good enough for Michelle, according to her. But she loves the girls, and they love her. Michelle has asked if we can do Christmas in London after all.”

“Does that mean you will not be travelling to France?”

“Least I could do. I told Michelle she’s welcome to Abby’s room as long as she needs it. Her and Jack will come over the same time the girls get here. It’s super inconvenient to travel up and down from Birmingham.”

“And where will the girls sleep?”

“Liz’s room I suppose? I called my parents as well just now, they offered to come to London but I told them it’ll be impossible to get a hotel anymore. It’s only a month away now. Maybe we can go visit for a couple of days in the new year.”

He rubs his eyes as the waiter clears away the plates of their dinner. They turn down dessert but both order an espresso and Mycroft asks for the bill. When the waiter leaves again, Mycroft shifts in his seat.

“I will make a suggestion, and you will turn me down if you do not like it. You needn't worry I will be offended if you do.”

“Ok?” Greg asks his full attention on Mycroft.

“The house has several empty bedrooms. Your parents could have one, and Elizabeth and Abigail wouldn’t have to share, although Gabriela and Abigail could, if they would prefer that. With Michelle and Jack in your apartment, everybody would be together in London.”

“Mycroft, you hate having people over.”

“You’re the one that told me to treat Lestrades like the exception, Gregory.” Suddenly, he is even more nervous that his offer might be overstepping.

“If you’re sure, that sounds like the perfect way to spend Christmas. All together in that big house.”

“We would have to cook for ourselves, I have given the staff off already.”

“That will be no problem love,” Greg laughs “you know how my dad feels about cooking for groups.”

“There is one other thing,” Mycroft shuffles again, fidgeting a little with his empty cup.

“What is it?”

“Do we tell them?”

“Absolutely, I’ll call everyone now, if you’re sure.”

“I mean,” he blushes “do we tell them we’re together?”

“Oh, my parents know, the girls and Michelle I can tell over Skype. Would that bother you?”

“No,” Mycroft looks up to make eye contact “I would love that.”

“Perfect. Do we invite your parents and Sherlock over for dinner too? Let’s get walking, love.”

“Oh god, I hadn’t thought about that at all,” Mycroft admits, as he helps Greg into his coat.

They link arms as soon as they’re outside, turning to walk to Greg’s apartment.

“I think we should, get all the introductions over with. Unless you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Maybe we could have them over for lunch on Christmas day?”

“Perfect,” Greg smiles, and leans over to kiss Mycroft’s cheek. “I’ll call them all tonight, how many spare bedrooms do you have?”

“Three on the floor my bedroom is on, those are ready for use, but there are also the rooms in the attic, if we need more space.”

“I think we’ll be fine with three,” Greg laughs, enjoying the cold wind on his cheek and the warmth of Mycroft by his side, as they walk towards his apartment for another night slow kisses and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

“Will you tell your parents?” Greg asks as he holds the door open for Mycroft to step through.

“I will call them tomorrow morning,” Mycroft grins. “I’d rather get on with our evening plans,” he kisses Greg and closes the door behind him.


	2. The 15th of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Greg go watch the King's College Choir performance.

“I have to tell you something,” Greg confesses. Mycroft just lifts his eyebrows, staring at Greg over the last bite of his lasagne.

“We’re not having an early dinner because I still need to go to the shops tonight.”

“I cannot believe you would lie to me about something I was so looking forward to,” Mycroft chuckles.

Greg grins and continues: “I got us tickets to the King’s College Choir performance tonight. I’ll even wear a tux.”

Mycroft set’s his fork down a little heavily and then blushes deeply, a smile spreading across his face.

“How did you know to do that?”

“You like choirs, went to Cambridge, and secretly love the traditions of Christmas? Common, I’m no genius but I know you.”

Mycroft looks so pleased that Greg can only walk over to his side of the table and kiss him fondly. “It starts at 7:30, the car will be here in about 10 minutes, let’s go change.” 

 

When they are standing in Mycroft’s walk-in closet helping each other button up and straighten out cuffs, Mycroft smiles at the ever-expanding section of the closet taken up by Greg’s clothes. Greg notices and pecks him on the cheek, and they walk downstairs holding hands. Just as Mycroft helps Greg into his coat, they hear a car stop. With an approving glint in his eyes, Greg picks up a bit of fluff from Mycroft’s coat and then turns him around to guide him to the car, holding a hand to his lower back. “Gorgeous,” he whispers so only Mycroft can hear.

During the ride over, Mycroft squeezes Greg’s hand before asking: “What made you get the tickets?”

“I wanted to treat you to something because you’re letting my family disturb the peace and quiet, and when I realized the timing of this was perfect, and they still had your favourite box, I figured it was meant to be.”

“We’re in my favourite box?” Mycroft asks, his voice incredulous. “I’m even more excited now,” he grins and settles back into his seat contently, holding Greg’s hand in his lap.

“I also got all of us tickets to the Messiah as a Christmas present, but that is the 19th.”

“The girls and your parents?”

“And us, I was honestly surprised to be able to get 7 tickets near each other considering how late I booked them, but it seems the best box in the house is a well-guarded secret,” he winks as Mycroft smiles again.

“I don’t know what to say Gregory, I am very much looking forward to that too.”

“I was looking for things to do in London and this seemed nice,” Greg shrugs but stares down at his lap.

“Don’t cheapen your brilliance, I am certain they will love it.”

When the car stops in front of the Royal Albert they both get out through Mycroft’s door and standing in front of the entrance, Mycroft grabs Greg’s hand once again. “You are a marvel and I am ever so grateful,” he whispers in Greg’s ear as the walk up the steps together.

 

The box is still empty when Greg and Mycroft arrive, but fills up shortly with a family and two couples. They make polite conversation about the program until the lights start dimming and everyone returns to their seats. Greg grabs Mycroft’s hand as soon as the first tones of the music sound, and leans over to touch the edge of Mycroft’s ear with the tip of his nose. The gesture is so familiar and comforting even after only a few weeks together that Mycroft’s heart skips a beat. When he feels Greg’s breath flutter across the sensitive skin of his neck he has to suppress a shiver at the shocking intimacy. He couldn’t stop smiling if he tried and sighs happily as Greg settles down next to him, turning to watch the choir.

 

During the intermission, they step outside for a quick cigarette.

“Last one, love.”

“I know, not in front of the children.”

“I’ve stocked up on nicotine patches.”

“We’ve been sticking to one a day for weeks now, we should be all right.”

“Tell me that again after lunch with your parents and Sherlock.”

“God,” Mycroft inhales deeply around his cigarette, as if trying to get as much into his lungs as possible so he can save some for later. “I will tell you right now that Sherlock and I are going to sneak out to smoke.”

“Christmas tradition?”

“You could say that,” Mycroft chuckles. “Say, did you notice the moustache?”

“No?”

“There’s a man, third from the left, front row. He has an enormous moustache, I can think of several walruses that would be envious.”

“Oh yes! I saw him!”

“It seems even he is offended by his facial hair, it tickles him.” They both giggle.

“I’ll pay attention, let me know if you see it happen. I’d love to see that. Back up we go?”

Beaming at each other they link hands and make their way back inside.

 

The man bristles and twitches his nose, so Mycroft turns to point him out to Greg, but when he sees the look on Greg’s face, he stops himself and leans back instead. Greg is entirely engrossed in the singing and the spectacle happening on the stage. The look on his face is pure wonder and Mycroft can only stare. He misses almost the entire second half for staring at Greg and it takes until the evening is almost over for Greg to notice. When he looks over to find Mycroft staring at him with an expression of fondness and slightly parted mouth as if he just said ‘oh’ he smiles back, eyes sparkling in the low light. He winks and Mycroft blushes, and together they turn their attention back to the stage.

 

In the car back, hands locked together in Mycroft’s lap again, Greg softly asks: “What were you looking at?”

“You,” Mycroft mumbles, blushing fiercely. “I have to tell you something.”

“Let’s wait until we’re home?”

Mycroft nods and they spend the rest of the car ride in quiet anticipation. When they get back to the house, Greg opens the door with his key, and steps aside to let Mycroft in. They put up their coats, Mycroft disables the alarm and wordlessly they make their way upstairs. They change into their pyjamas as they always do, brushing their teeth as they always do and settle into bed next to each other.

 

“I love you,” Mycroft breathes across the space between them.

“I love you too,” Greg breathes back, and he shuffles closer, leaning over Mycroft to kiss him fondly.

Mycroft deepens the kiss, pulling Greg closer by his hips and for a while, they are just kissing, but then Mycroft rolls his hips, suddenly needy.

Greg stops and pushes himself up a little, keeping their faces close.

“Don’t stop,” Mycroft huffs.

“I’m not stopping for me, love. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable!” Mycroft whines.

“I know love,” Greg soothes, trailing a finger across Mycroft’s cheekbones, making his eyes flutter shut.

“Do your worst,” Mycroft suddenly says.

“My worst?”

“Your very worst, show me intimacy to the furthest extent, show me what you mean.”

“That’s not how it works,” Greg answers, his tone gentle.

“I’m scared of you seeing me.”

“I know,” Greg kisses Mycroft’s top lip gently, “but we have been intimate in so many ways already.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are different kinds of intimacy.”

“Elaborate.” He reaches his hands up to cup Greg’s face.

“Sleeping next to each other, whispering secrets into the dark is intimate.” Mycroft doesn’t respond, so Greg continues. “So is seeing each other hurt or in hospital.”

“Vulnerability is intimate to you?”

“Absolutely, embracing vulnerability, trusting that you’re safe.”

“What else?” Mycroft demands, kissing Greg’s face softly, moving his head around so he can reach everywhere.

“Meeting each other’s families, letting someone take care of you when you’re sick. Trusting they'll love you even if you're gross.”

“Do your worst, Gregory,” Mycroft whispers against Greg’s lips. “I trust you, prove to me that,” another kiss, “this can be good. That I’m safe.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop, or slow down,” Greg whispers back.

Greg sits up, and looks around, sucking his bottom lip in while thinking. He flips down half of the duvet, so their legs are still covered, and switches off all the lights in the room, except for the night lights on both sides of the bed. The orange glow makes Mycroft’s eyes sparkle as he follows Greg’s movements.

“Are you ok?”

“I am.”

“Sure?” Greg asks again, but he leans over to kiss Mycroft.

“Very,” Mycroft answers, as he tilts his head back to give Greg access to his throat.

“Alright,” Greg whispers to Mycroft’s pulse, ghosting kisses all the way down to the hollow of his throat, “but you’ll tell me if I need to back up?”

He fingers open the top button of Mycroft’s silk pyjamas and kisses his collarbone thoroughly. Mycroft puffs out a soft  _'oh'_ at the sensation.

“I promise,” Mycroft breathes, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

Greg opens the next button and kisses the newly exposed skin thoroughly, which earns him another _'oh_ _'_. “How do you feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Warm, cold, happy, excited, turned on?” The third button falls.

“I’m not cold, but all the other ones, yes.” As Greg softly kisses a newly exposed nipple, Mycroft arches his back and hisses.

“Are you comfortable?” Greg asks, moving over to the other nipple.

“Yes.”

Greg opens the fourth button, and leans back a little to admire the sight of a very flushed Mycroft surrounded by green silk. Mycroft squirms a little under the attention but doesn’t look away when Greg makes eye contact. Greg gently holds onto Mycroft's hip with his hand, using the other to push Mycroft's hair away from his forehead. 

“What do you dislike about this?”

“I feel naked and exposed," Mycroft confesses, blushing, "but I don’t think ‘dislike’ is the right word.”

Greg grins and peels off his own t-shirt. “Feel free to touch me back, love,” he says, as he leans over to resume the kissing trail. Mycroft tentatively puts a hand on Greg’s shoulder, then trails his fingers around the dark hair on his back, moving from the nape of his neck down as far as he can reach, and back up again. When he puts his hand against Greg's chest and spreads his fingers through the hair, his face opens in wonder.  _'Oh'._

“Last button,” Greg mumbles against his skin, and he undoes the button, allowing the silk to fall open. Without pausing he kisses further down, licking his bellybutton, kissing around the soft hair above the waist of the silk trousers.  _'Oh.'_

Mycroft sucks in a breath when he feels Greg’s lips touch the softness of his stomach, but soon enough he can only think of where these kisses are getting closer and closer too.

“Do you like this?”

“I love it,” breathes Mycroft, trying to hold back the noises he wants to make.

“Let me hear you love,” Greg whispers to Mycroft’s navel, before licking it quickly.

Mycroft simpers and moans and arches his back, pushing up his hips. His grabs onto Greg’s back, scratching it involuntarily. Greg’s sharp intake of breath snaps him out of it.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Greg laughs quietly, leaning over to kiss Mycroft’s nose, “don’t apologize for that. I love the feeling and I love the idea that I might make you lose control a little.”

Mycroft blushes and wraps his arms around Greg’s neck, kissing him with desperation. As they are kissing, Greg tucks two fingers into the waistband of Mycroft’s pyjama trousers. He pauses the kiss to make eye contact and ask: “Ok?”

Mycroft nods and blushes deeply as he adds: “You first.”

Greg grins, rolls onto his back and pushes down his trousers and pants in one swift motion. Without ceremony, he tosses them off the bed and rolls back to look at Mycroft, who is trying not to stare.

“You can look at me if you want,” Greg whispers. “You can touch too.”

Mycroft feels the familiar weight in his chest of intimacy, of Greg, and reaches out to gently touch Greg’s thigh. “You are so gorgeous,” he breathes.

“So are you,” Greg replies, kissing him firmly. With a swift movement, he pulls off Mycroft’s pants and pyjama trousers, sitting back to take in the expanse of pale skin. Pushing the pyjamas to the side he leans over, kissing him way slowly from Mycroft’s foot all the way back to his face, making Mycroft wriggle and squirm. By the time they’re kissing again, they are both achingly hard and panting. Mycroft grabs Greg’s wrists and rolls them over, pushing him into the mattress as they continue kissing. Sitting on his knees, across Greg's legs, he pushes his pyjama jacket off and throws it across the room. He leans forward and grabs Greg's wrists again, and keeps kissing. Their bodies are pressed together and as Greg wriggles a little Mycroft gasps.

“You were entirely right, this is the best part,” he pants, resuming his kissing eagerly. Greg grins into the kiss and tries to move his arms a little. Mycroft seems to realize suddenly what he’s doing and flushes fiercely. “I’m so sorry,” he gasps, sitting up and releasing Greg’s wrists in one movement, “I said we could do what you want.”

“Not at all love,” Greg grins, “we said we’d do intimacy. Few things so intimate as showing what you crave, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Perhaps,” Mycroft agrees, before pressing their bodies together again and resuming his plundering of Greg’s mouth.

Greg reaches his arms around to stroke Mycroft’s back, softly scratching with his nails, which causes Mycroft to moan softly and roll his hips against Greg. Greg chuckles and repeats the movement and then whispers against Mycroft’s lips: “I love how responsive you are, I love seeing you like this, I love feeling you like this.”

“We should be doing this all the time,” Mycroft whispers back.

Before Greg can reply, Mycroft sits up again, but this time to kiss his way down Greg’s chest, exploring the skin and soft hair with gentle touches. Greg closes his eyes in pleasure and arches his back as he feels electricity tingle all over his skin as Mycroft touches him, kisses him, and _there_. He hisses and bucks his hips up and Mycroft moves with him, sucking him deeper down, gently tickling across Greg’s stomach and thighs with his fingertips as he licks and sucks and then Greg can’t stop himself. He tries to warn Mycroft but all he can manage is a “Myycroffft....” as he comes down Mycroft’s throat. To his astonishment, Mycroft moans deeply as he swallows and licks Greg clean. The sight is so incredibly erotic that Greg can feel himself twitch where surely, he should be completely spent by now. Still licking, Mycroft looks up and when their eyes meet, Greg scrambles to pull Mycroft into a deep, hot kiss, before flipping their positions and eagerly returning the favour. Mild surprise ( _'oh'_ ) is the only thing on Mycroft’s face before everything about him screams pleasure. His head tilted back, his mouth slightly open, his fingers twitching as if he wants to grab Greg’s head. Lifting his hands from the bed, Greg picks up Mycroft hands and settles them in his hair. Immediately, Mycroft’s fingers start pulling Greg’s hair and scratching his scalp, but he seems to hold himself back from applying pressure. Greg pulls off for a second to look up, Mycroft opening his eyes and meeting his gaze at the sudden loss of heat.

“Assume I don’t have a gag reflex, I’ll let you know if you’re being too rough,” Greg tells him, voice rough and low. Mycroft moans loudly at that, his hips bucking up involuntary, his hands tightening their hold on Greg’s hair. Greg goes back to what he was doing, sucking gently, and then he lets Mycroft take over the pace. It takes very little before Mycroft is warning him with a gasped “Greg... Oh...”. Greg keeps going and doesn’t stop until Mycroft too is spent. He pulls himself up and lies down heavily on top of Mycroft who makes a noise that sounds like _humpf_. They laugh quietly.

“Tell me if I need to move,” Greg whispers, kissing Mycroft’s jaw.

“Never move again.”

“We’ll get cold.”

“Don’t care,” Mycroft breathes, wrapping his arms tightly around Greg. They catch their breath slowly and kiss slower until Greg shivers.

“Ok, now I care,” Greg laughs, and he sits up to pull up the blankets over them. Content, he takes his place on top of Mycroft again, and feels the strong arms wrap his waist.

“Gregory,” Mycroft whispers, his face scrunched as if he’s in pain, “I must tell you.”

“What is it love?” Greg kisses against Mycroft’s jaw.

“This was... beyond words. I have no words.”

“Good no words?”

“You are far beyond anything I could have ever hoped for, or even imagined. ‘Good’ is grossly inadequate.”

Greg laughs softly, and touches his nose to Mycroft's ear again. “I love you too.”

They both fall asleep quickly, warm and wrapped up together.


	3. The 16th of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's house fills with Lestrades and others.

They both wake up at the same time, and as Mycroft moves, Greg flops his arm over to pin him down.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbles groggily.

“Need I remind you of the activities we have planned for the day, Gregory?”

“Wanna talk first.”

“Oh. What about?” Mycroft lies back down, turning his head to face Greg.

“Are you alright? Was that too much?”

When Mycroft doesn’t reply, Greg lifts up his head to try and read his expression.

“You look uncomfortable. I won’t pretend that wasn’t the best sex of my life and I would gladly do this all day every day for the rest of my life, but I want to hear what you feel too.”

Mycroft blushes fiercely.

“I am uncomfortable, but I enjoyed it very much. And I wouldn’t be opposed to repeating the experience either.”

Greg laughs at that, and gives Mycroft a loud kiss.

“Breakfast?”

 

“Let’s go through the schedule again,” Mycroft nudges Greg’s leg with his foot, as he pours out more tea.

“You’re way too nervous about this. It will all be fine,” Greg sighs. But he continues anyway: “Abby and Gabriela are landing at Stansted in two hours, we’ll meet Michelle and Jack there. They’re on their way from Birmingham already. We give my keys to Michelle and take the girls here, where they get to pick bedrooms. My parents arrive at Stansted at 2 so we go pick them up with or without the girls, depending on how they feel. Liz arrives tonight and I’ll go pick her up with whoever wants to join. You take care of dinner with whoever doesn’t want to come to the airport.”

“Should I have bought more movies?”

“Mycroft, you’re fine. The house is fine. The girls will love it here, and so will my parents, especially once they see the kitchen and how full Anthea has stuffed the fridge.”

They eat in silence for a bit before Mycroft sighs: “It’s going to be a long day.”

“Absolutely,” Greg grins. “Hope you know what you got yourself into.”

Mycroft gives him a fond smile. “A relationship with you.”

They kiss slowly and finish up the last of their breakfast before leaving for the airport. In the car, Mycroft gets nervous again.

“Are you sure the presents we bought them will be ok?”

“Very sure.”

“Do you think my parents will get along with your parents?”

“I think so, and if they don’t we’ll toss Rosie in for distraction.”

“If you want me to leave, you should tell me. We can have a code word for if you want to be alone with your family.”

“I’ve seen the amount of work you have to do these weeks, I’m more worried about not seeing enough of you.”

That settles Mycroft down, so he reaches over to squeeze Greg’s hand. “You’re wonderful.”

“So are you. You’re also gorgeous and about to be very tired of teenagers.”

“I absolutely refuse to believe they are worse than Sherlock. And thank you, so are you.”

They laugh and hold hands as they pull into the parking garage of the airport, Mycroft’s cheeks still hot as they get out.

With their arms linked they walk into the airport. Mycroft nudges Greg gently and whispers in his ear: “People are staring at us.”

Greg whispers back: “They’re jealous of how adorable we are.”

“I’m not adorable,” Mycroft huffs, but he grins adoringly at Greg. “Where are we meeting Michelle and her partner?”

“By the gate, but we have some time, do you want a coffee?”

“Not at all, I’m holding out hope tonight I will get to drink your father’s coffee.”

“Mycroft! Is that why you bought the new machine?”

“Perhaps,” Mycroft chuckles, steering them towards the Starbucks.

There is a long line, so Greg takes his time selecting one of the fancy fruit juices Mycroft would never admit to loving. He holds them up one by one, squinting a little at Mycroft, before settling on one. When it’s their turn, he orders an Americano for himself. As they look for the gate they have to go to, Mycroft spots someone speed walking towards them.

“Michelle is here,” he whispers to Greg, before plastering on the smile he reserves for meeting probably-friendly-strangers.

“Greg, hi!” Michelle smiles and hugs Greg. “And you must be Mycroft, so nice to finally meet you,” she adds, holding out her hand.

A rather exasperated looking man joins her. “Hi, I’m Jack.” He holds out his hand to Mycroft. Greg and him greet each other with a friendly pat on the back, and they all walk towards arrivals together, Mycroft sneakily sipping the bright yellow tropical fruit juice that Greg selected because of the yellow stripes in his Holmes tartan scarf.

 

They chat casually at the gate about Michelle’s work at the university, and Jack’s new job at the local secondary school, as they wait for the girls to arrive. After a couple of minutes, Mycroft leans over to Greg. “These people are from their flight, but none of them had cabin luggage.”

When Jack is telling a story about being too old to teach PE to the younger students anymore, Mycroft leans over again. “The luggage has arrived, any moment now.” Michelle hears and doesn’t even seem surprised Mycroft would know. They stand quietly, looking at the doors until a beaming Abby steps out. Laughing she runs over to her mum and Greg, and they all hug together. Mycroft notices the shy looking girl staring at the three, and steps to her side to introduce himself. She smiles gratefully as he asks her about the flight. By the time she has introduced herself to Jack as well, Abby and her parents are blushing and smiling brightly.

“Mum, dad, this is Gabi,” she motions, “Gabi, these are my parents, and I see you’ve met the boyfriends.”

When they’re done with the introductions, Greg hands over the keys to his apartment to Michelle and they all walk to the parking together. Before they step outside into the cold, Mycroft hands Gabi his woollen scarf.

“I’ll bring one of Abby’s spare coats tonight for you Gabi,” Michelle says, noting also how unprepared the girl is for real winter. “Abby, anything else I can bring you from your room?”

“Nah,” Abby shrugs, “but maybe Liz will want something tomorrow. We can always pop by.”

As they get close to the car, Greg wraps an arm around his daughter’s shoulder and stage whispers: “Abby, guess which one we’re taking home.”

Delight all across her face she shifts her gaze between her dad and the cars around her.

“Did Mycroft let you take the car?”

“He did.” Greg beams, grabbing Mycroft’s hand as Abby tugs Gabi along to the car, nattering on about the specifics.

They say goodbye to Michelle and Jack when the suitcases of the girls are safely in the back of the car and set off to Mycroft’s house.

“Mycroft?” Abby asks as they pull onto the road.

“Yes, Abigail?” Mycroft replies, over his shoulder.

She giggles: “Abby please, I’m only Abigail when I’m in trouble.”

“I will remember that, Abby. Now, what did you want to ask?”

“Why do you let him drive?” She giggles again at Greg’s mock-offended huffing.

“That is a good question. I suppose it has to do with the fact that he enjoys driving this car, and that I trust him to drive it carefully.” Greg beams at him and pats Mycroft’s knee.

“Did he ever tell you about our Ford?”

“Abigail Esther Lestrade!”

“See,” Abby is laughing outright now, “only when I’m in trouble.”

 

When they get back to the house, Greg pauses in the hallway, standing next to the suitcases, waiting for everyone to finish hanging their coats.

“Would you girls like to share a room?”

Abby blushes deeply and exchanges a look with Gabi. “Can we?”

“Absolutely, I asked your dad, Gabi, when I called him last week, and Michelle and I don’t mind either. I’m asking if you want to.”

Gabi and Abby exchange another look and Abby nods earnestly at Greg.

“That’s settled then. Mycroft, can you show them their room? I’ll set up for tea.”

Mycroft shows the girls to one of the guest rooms that looks out over the street.

“I suggest you don’t try to use the fireplace. The chimney is fine but the soot is not great for the wallpaper. The bathroom is across the hallway, and the linen closet has extra towels and pillows and blankets, should you be in need.” He pauses, looking around.

“Anything else?”

The girls are quiet, taking in the understated luxury of the room around them, before both looking at Mycroft in awe.

“I’m sorry, I am very unaccustomed to having guests. Please let me know if there is anything else you need.”

“No, no, don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” Abby gently touches his arm, sensing his anxiety.

Mycroft smiles at her and nods. “I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready, take your time to get settled. The kitchen is in the souterrain, all the way downstairs.”

 

Mycroft rushes downstairs, wrapping his arms around Greg’s waist as soon as he gets close enough. He sighs into the warm neck in front of him.

“Already?” Greg laughs.

“I really want them to like me,” Mycroft mumbles, kissing Greg’s shoulder. Greg turns around and wraps his arms around Mycroft’s neck, kissing him back.

“You’re doing very well. Everything will be fine.” They stand together for a minute until they hear noises on the stairs. Greg sets the tea out on the table and they both laugh as they hear Abby open the wrong door and both of the girls go ‘oooooh’ at Mycroft’s wine collection. When the girls step into the kitchen they look around eagerly before sitting down at the kitchen table next to Mycroft.

“Are you girls hungry?” Greg asks, leaning back onto the countertop.

“I am, we’ve been up since 6,” Abby answers.

“I’ll make lunch then. Is everyone ok with omelettes?” Greg looks around and smiles at the nodding faces. “Alright then. Why don’t I cook, and you girls tell me about your university applications?”

The girls groan, but start explaining, and Mycroft gets up to help Greg clean vegetables and cook their lunch.

 

“I know you said your dad cares a lot about food, but I didn’t expect this,” Gabi sighs when she has finished eating.

Mycroft and Greg laugh, and Abby looks very proud. “He’s outdone himself, honestly, homemade bread, fancy cheese, fresh herbs, he definitely didn’t use to do that on school nights.”

“Thank you for getting my ego back in check Abby, and I’ll have you know it’s Mycroft who does the cheese shopping.”

“Obviously,” Abby says, rolling her eyes, which causes everyone to laugh again.

“Why don’t you girls get started on the dishes, I’ll finish off the dough for the scones and then you can explore the house by yourselves while Mycroft and I go pick up your grandparents.”

“If I may, Greg,” Mycroft interjects, “I have something for the girls.”

He walks over to the mantel shelf, grabs something, and walks back to take his place at the table again and places two sets of keys on the table.

“I’ve added you both to the security system, and I’ll let you know the codes. This way you can come and go as you please.”

Greg leans over and kisses Mycroft on his cheek, his hand on Mycroft’s forearm.

“Be careful with those, girls, they are not given lightly. You can’t write down the codes or tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” Gabi says, picking up the keys and smiling at them.

“Yeah, thank you. Is there anywhere nearby that is nice to go explore?”

“There’s a park just down the street, and some shops nearby. You’ll like this neighbourhood, Mouse,” Greg replies fondly.

They all startle at Gabi’s snort and then laugh at Abby’s blushing.

“Well, there you go,” Gabi laughs, leaning her head on Abby’s shoulder.

 

Half an hour later, Mycroft sighs happily as Greg turns on the radio to BBC radio 3.

“Why Mouse?”

“Her sister is Bug, together they are Vermin. It’s a remnant from when they were very loud babies.” Greg laughs. “You have to admit it’s catchy.”

“I really appreciate you letting me meet your family like this.”

Greg leans over to grab Mycroft’s hand. “Maybe you’ll stop thinking of it as meeting them, and start thinking of it as spending time with them. And maybe at some point, you will think of it as all of us spending time together as a family.”

Mycroft blushes deeply. “Is that why you wanted to have the Christmas Day lunch with everyone?”

“Yeah,” Greg grins at him.

Mycroft leans over, resting his head on Greg’s shoulder for a second.

“Good no words?”

“Wholly inadequate.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Greg smiles and squeezes Mycroft’s hand, before focusing back on the road. The rest of the drive is spent in comfortable silence, and after they park, they repeat the actions of the morning.

“People are still staring.”

“Adorable.”

“Jealous of me.”

“Or me, gorgeous,” Greg replies, kissing Mycroft again.

 

As they are waiting by the gate, Greg’s arm around Mycroft’s waist and Mycroft’s arm around Greg’s shoulder, Mycroft asks: “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“If you’d let me finish,” Mycroft sighs in mock exasperation, “I mean the casual intimacy, the touches in public, the kissing of my cheek.”

“Interesting question.” They look at each other, and Greg shrugs.

“I suppose I just don’t treat you any different than I want to, baring the shagging against a wall every time you shoot me a sultry look in public.”

They both laugh, “that would not do either of our reputations any good, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah I can’t afford to put two girls through university on a state pension.”

“I hereby solemnly swear that if we lose our jobs over outraging public decency, I will personally use my savings to ensure your children do not miss out on their education.”

“You shouldn’t say such sexy things in public, Mycroft, or I’ll have to actually arrest us.”

They kiss fondly but quickly, and stop just in time for Mycroft to whisper, “another 20-30 seconds.”

24 seconds later, Julia and Michel step out of the sliding doors, grinning when they see Mycroft and Greg. After the kissing and hugging is done, Greg shepherds everyone back to the car.

 

“I see you’ve melted him a little, Greg,” Julia remarks as they turn onto the highway.

Greg barks out a laugh, “how do you mean mum?”

“The touching! You didn’t do that when you visited.”

“Our relationship is no longer a secret, Julia,” Mycroft answers, turning in his seat to smile at Greg’s parents.

“Well I’m glad to see you so comfortable,” Julia replies, patting Mycroft’s shoulder.

“Are the girls at the house?” Michel asks.

“Abby and her friend, yes, Liz doesn’t land until later. I was thinking maybe you and Mycroft could cook while Abby and I pick Liz up.”

“Sounds good.”

 

Before Greg has properly parked the car, Abby is standing on the sidewalk. “Gramma! Papi!”

Mycroft and Gabi stand a little to the side as they witness the scene in front of them.

“It’s odd, isn’t it? To watch a family so different to yours?”

“Indeed, it is,” Mycroft agrees. “What makes you think my family is different to this one?”

Gabi snorts a little. “Have you seen your house?”

The grin at each other, waiting politely for Julia and Michel to come over and introduce themselves to Gabi.

 

When they are all sitting in the kitchen, scones and tea and homemade jam brought by Julia spread out on the table, Greg sighs at his dad.

“You have to ask Mycroft.”

“Sorry?” Mycroft asks.

“Greg knows I would like to explore your kitchen,” Michel admits.

“Oh,” Mycroft settles his hands in his lap, “I want all of you to feel at home here.”

“Don’t go into the office in the attic though,” Greg adds.

“But otherwise, you’re welcome to anything here. I have had key copies made for everyone and Michel, I can show you the garage later.”

“You’re very kind Mycroft, but don’t feel that you can’t restrict us,” Julia warns. “I promise we like you just for you.” Mycroft blushes and receives the little pat from Julia in stride.

“I really do want you to feel free, and I have fairly decent insurance should anything break,” Mycroft attempts. Greg giggles at his discomfort, and the others join in. To diverge the topic of the conversation, Mycroft says to Abby: “I notice you play the piano, there is one in the sitting room.”

Only Gabi looks impressed, which makes Mycroft happier than he would admit, so he settles for leaning closer to Greg as the conversation about music continues and whispering: “They’re getting used to me.”

“They are love, and my mum isn’t a liar.”

“I know,” Mycroft beams, looking very pleased.

They both enjoy the chatting around the table until Michel asks to see the house and Mycroft and him stalk off together, with Mycroft explaining all the renovations he had done, and the parts that are original or come from other houses from similar building styles are pointed out. The girls help Greg clean up as Julia goes upstairs to unpack.

 

“Dad?” Abby asks as she hands Greg a plate.

“Yes love.”

“I like him.”

“I’m very glad to hear you say that. Thank you.” Greg ruffles her hair and she flicks soap at him.

“Liz is going to eat him up,” she grins.

“He’s a big boy,” Greg laughs back.

“Gabi, do you want to join us to the airport later, or would you prefer to stay here?”

“Oh, I’ll help cook if that’s ok. Abby’s told me a bunch about how Michel is the best chef ever. Plus, that way I don’t have to deal with the twintuition.”

“Twintuition?”

“Yeah, that creepy thing they do when they talk without talking.”

“They do that over Skype? God you’re right, it’s very creepy. You know, Mycroft does it with his brother too, and they’re not even twins.”

“Oh god, twin-overload,” Gabi shudders, which earns her a flick of soap too.

 

With Greg and Abby safely on their way to the third airport of the day, Michel and Julia start exploring the options in the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for Gabi and Mycroft to get kicked out, so he makes them both hot chocolate and they sit together on the sofa.

“Can I ask you something, Mycroft?”

“Absolutely,” Mycroft answers, pulling up his legs to sit cross-legged on the sofa.

“Do you think it’s possible to be a part of someone else’s family?”

“Could you tell me first what your family is like?”

“Single dad, no siblings. My grandparents live far away. I love him and we’re good, but it’s never been like...” she gestures vaguely with her hand and Mycroft nods.

“I think you can make your own family, choose them, if you will. Your partner and you might have children someday, but even if you do not, you will have your own home, your own traditions, and the absolute dedication that comes with being family.”

“You’ve not answered my question.”

“No I suppose I haven’t. The real answer is I don’t know, but I hope so very much.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel.”

“I noticed all your university options are here, does that have anything to do with it?”

“It might. If Abby and I both get to go to university in London, maybe we can make it work.”

“You are together?”

“Ah, yes,” Gabi grins at Mycroft, “but it’s a little taboo, so we’re not exactly public. Roommates are supposed to be friends, not girlfriends, at our school. It’ll be nice not to be secretive while we’re here.”

Mycroft nods again, hands clasped around his hot chocolate.

“Are you gay?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“Wondering, Abby and I aren’t sure.”

“That is entirely understandable. There are many clichés that are applicable here, but the reality is that attraction in general does not affect how you feel about one person in specific very much.”

“What’s your type?”

“Good. Pure and honest. Greg is my type.”

Gabi laughs, “yeah he’s such a Hufflepuff.”

Mycroft laughs too, “and how I love him for it.”

Gabi leans her head against Mycroft’s shoulder, which makes him tense up a little, but he relaxes into the contact pretty soon. When they walk into the kitchen to clean their mugs, Michel and Julia are wearing aprons and surrounded by ingredients.

“Perfect! Mycroft here, Gabriela here, read your post-its, let’s get to work!”

Mycroft and Gabi make eye contact with Julia, who laughs and shrugs, and then they all get to work.

 

After the kind of shrieking that must have set off alarms somewhere in the airport, Greg has his daughters both sitting in the car. Liz in front, Abby in the middle in the back. Before he can think how happy he is to have them both near, Liz turns around.

“Tell me what he’s like?”

“Totally clueless.”

“Girls!”

“Shush, let me dad. He’s shy, like dad said, and totally unaware of how much dad loves him. It’s very cute.”

“How did him and mum interact?”

“Pretty chill honestly, he seems ok with slightly impersonal, it’s the very personal that makes him blush.”

“Ah great, I can’t wait.”

“Elizabeth Caroline Lestrade if you are mean to my boyfriend so help me,” Greg starts.

“See!” Abby laughs, “adorable.”

The girls laugh, and Greg joins in when he realizes his glare is fooling no one.

 

When Greg and the girls get out of the car, there is a whole committee waiting on the steps. Liz greets her mum first, then Jack, then her grandparents and lastly, she stands in front of Mycroft and Gabi. She gives Gabi a quick hug and a quick ‘nice to finally meet you in person’, then launches herself at Mycroft.

“I’m so glad you’ll be a part of the family now Myc! We’ve all just waited for so long for dad to find someone and you will fit right in! Grandma has knitted us all matching Christmas sweaters and I can’t wait for it all to be official!”

Mycroft is a little pale but recovers quickly, twirling Liz around and kissing her on her forehead. He beams back: “The adoption papers are inside Elizabeth, I can’t believe we’re all still standing here.”

Greg barks out a loud laugh and grabs Mycroft’s face with both hands before kissing him thoroughly. Abby laughs at Liz and pokes her in the ribs with her elbow: “Maybe I neglected to mention he’s a definite Slytherin too.”

“Come on, dinnertime” Michel nudges everyone inside. Greg helps Liz with her suitcase and leaves her to take a quick shower. When he gets back downstairs, the formal dining room table is loaded with food. He sits next to Mycroft and touches his nose to Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft shivers and smiles at him.

 

After dinner, where the conversations were mostly about the girls last term of high school, Mycroft starts a fire in the sitting room and everyone settles into the sofas and chairs around the fire. Greg and Mycroft go downstairs together to load the dishwasher and wash the pans.

“Peace and quiet.”

“And then back into fray.”

“Are you doing alright love?”

“More than,” Mycroft leans over and kisses Greg reassuringly. Greg beams at him.

“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have so many of us under one roof.”

“Seeing you like this would be enough to endure any invasion of privacy, but I find the girls are very respectful.”

“Yeah,” Greg sighs, “I raised them well.” They laugh and when they finish cleaning up, walk upstairs with tea and the Christmas cookies Julia baked.

 

As they walk into the sitting room, everybody looks up to stare at them and Greg groans. “What?”

“Nothing,” Liz drawls innocently.

“Christmas presents,” Mycroft stage whispers at Greg.

“Glad to have the powers of deduction on my side love,” Greg grins.

They all laugh, and Greg and Mycroft join the rest.

“What are the plans for the coming three weeks then?” Greg asks his daughters.

“Meeting up with friends, doing some schoolwork, showing Gabi around, spending time with grandma, spending time with all of you,” Abby counts on her fingers.

“Sounds good,” Greg nods. “Mycroft and I have to work, but we’re expecting dinner together with everyone that’s staying at this house every night, unless you tell us otherwise. Christmas dinner here with everyone, Mycroft’s family is joining us for lunch on Christmas day. Oh, and we have tickets to the Messiah, the 19th, not for you and Jack though,” he adds, looking at Michelle.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t even want to go,” she throws back, sticking out her tongue.

Gabi looks surprised and flaps out: “How come you’re so chill?”

“There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other,” Greg shrugs.

“They may not be mountain trolls, but they are vermin.” Michelle adds, making everyone laugh.

Abby gets up and walks over to the piano, playing some scales before falling into Christmas music. When she pauses, Gabi smiles at her and sighs “ah, music”.

“A magic beyond all we do here,” Abby nods.

“Really,” Michelle asks, “you like Harry Potter?”

Abby snorts and turns to her mother sharply. “She’s from Brazil mum, not outer space.”

Michelle blushes at that, but Gabi throws back: “I feel like I am sometimes, who would marry someone with the same name as their dad?”

Greg throws back his head and laughs, “that’s just me, so logically that would make me the one from outer space.”

They all laugh and talk until Liz falls asleep on Abby’s shoulder.

“If the last two holidays from those wretched schools were any indication, the girls will spend much of this week asleep or too tired to move,” Greg mumbles, as he guides Liz up and out of the room. By the time everyone else is showered and ready for bed and Mycroft has cleaned up, they slide into bed and fall asleep immediately, arms wrapped tightly around each other.


	4. The 24th of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!

Mycroft wakes up when the duvet is pulled off of him. He automatically curls into himself to preserve heat, but opens his eyes when he hears Greg chuckle. Greg is holding the duvet in his arms and nods towards the open doors of the balcony.

“Come.”

“I thought we were sleeping in.”

“We’ll go back to bed after this, come.”

Curiosity wins out, so Mycroft gets out of bed and walks to the balcony door. It’s still dark outside.

“Put on some slippers and your bathrobe,” Greg suggests. “It’s cold out.”

“I’m so glad you’ve noticed,” drawls Mycroft, but he obeys.

“Sassy.”

When Mycroft steps onto the balcony, Greg is already sitting on the balcony sofa, wrapped in the duvet. On the table is a steaming pot of tea. Mycroft joins him under the duvet and cuddles up close, folding up his legs.

“Figured we might take some time to watch the sunrise together before Vermin and friends disturb our peace and quiet.”

Mycroft chuckles softly, “you speak so sweetly of your parents and children.”

“It’s one of my many charming qualities,” Greg grins back.

They both clutch their mugs and lean their bodies against each other, hips, shoulders, and heads touching. As the sky glows paler and then turns pink and orange and bright, Greg sighs.

“I want to sit here forever,” he whispers. Mycroft can only nod, but he knows Greg knows he understands.

When the sun is fully up, Mycroft becomes aware of noises coming from the house. He stretches out and kisses Greg’s neck.

“Time to go I think.”

“Five more minutes,” Greg whines, leaning against Mycroft.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What is your type?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Gabi asked me, and I told her you were my type. Good and pure and honest.”

“Mycroft, so help me, if this is you fishing for something...”

“No, no,” Mycroft interrupts, “I respect you far too much to think you would be with me if you didn’t want to be.”

“Good.”

They sit in silence for a bit before Greg takes a deep breath.

“Power. The kind of natural command of yourself that oozes control. That and intelligence. And blinding beauty. Like the sun, so beautiful it hurts.”

Mycroft can’t breathe, so he grabs onto the duvet firmly.

“You’re my type, love,” he adds, and peels Mycroft’s hands away, lifts the blanket, and crawls onto Mycroft’s lap. Leaning his hand on Mycroft’s shoulder, he pulls up the duvet so it covers them both. Mycroft’s hands sneak their way around his middle and grab on tight, pulling Greg even closer. They sit like that until Julia pulls the curtains open and smiles and waves them inside. A muffled ‘it’s Christmas!’ pulls them out of their thoughts at last, and with another kiss, they join the rest of the family downstairs.

 

They spend the day preparing for the family dinner, watching Christmas movies in the sitting room, and lounging around in pyjamas. By the time they’re finishing tea, Michel asks Mycroft: “Who’s in charge while you’re gone from work?”

“My assistant is.”

“Really? You’re letting Anthea work on Christmas?” Greg asks, his tone indicating his offense.

“Yes, I am,” Mycroft answers, raising an eyebrow.

“When is the last time she had Christmas off?”

“Not since she has been in my employ.”

Greg stares for a second before whipping out his phone. After a second they hear him go: “Ant? Hey girl, happy Christmas.”

There is a pause and then he replies: “You too. Tell me, is the world ending?”

Another pause, and Greg laughs. “Come for dinner, use Mycroft’s office upstairs if you need it.”

He laughs again, “he’s fine with it, let me handle that. I’ll see you around 7?”

Another pause. “Bye! Can’t wait.”

He hangs up and smirks at Mycroft. Mycroft stares at him, and seems to want to say something, but changes his mind.

“It’s our choices that define us, Mycroft. I’ve chosen to include her.”

“You know how I feel about Anthea, dear, she is always welcome here.”

Greg kisses him firmly, and whispers ‘good’ before going downstairs to help his dad.

 

At exactly 18:59, the doorbell rings. Greg goes to open and finds not only Anthea, but also Michelle and Jack on the doorstep. All three of them look excited, their cheeks a little red from the cold.

“Come on in, we’re in the dining room,” Greg waves, and helps with the coats before joining everyone else at the table.

When they’re seated, Mycroft looks around with a radiant smile on his face. He stands up, clutching his wineglass firmly and takes a deep breath.

“Thank you all for being here, for filling my home with laughter and joy. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Greg replies, holding up his glass in a toast. Everyone else joins in too, and as Mycroft sits down again, Greg squeezes his hand briefly.

“Thank you for this,” he whispers at Mycroft. Mycroft shivers at the low tones and smiles a bright smile back.

Michel excitedly gets up and starts explaining the varying dishes they all worked on and everyone starts helping themselves.

After much whining, the girls also get some wine, and the rest of the evening passes with laughing and eating. When they are having coffee in the sitting room after cleaning up most of dinner and setting the first load of the dishwasher, Liz turns to Mycroft with a wolfish grin.

“Mycroft, what do you think of my plan to take a gap year?”

“Liz why do you get such perverse pleasure out of putting him on the spot?” Greg sighs, but Mycroft leans in, patting Greg on the leg to show he's alright.

“Well Elizabeth, I think you should make what you think is the best decision based on your situation. It is wise to ask others for advice.”

“Ok, so what do you think I should do?”

“Make a solid plan and sell it to your parents. What else is there?”

This makes everyone laugh, most of all Liz.

“Of course, you just had to go for the diplomat, Da,” she laughs, punching his arm.

“You know why we think it’d be better to go straight to uni, hun.”

“I do, I just wish to do something for myself before I go back to a high-performance environment.”

“Well, if I may,” Mycroft starts, and he waits until he has the attention before continuing, “there is another option.”

“What then?” Liz leans forward to make sure she doesn’t miss what Mycroft has to say.

“Become utterly disappointing,” Mycroft grins, making Michelle and Greg groan and everyone else laugh.

“How would that help me?”

“Let me give you an example. Sherlock refused to wear clothes for almost 3 months when he was a child. Since then, my parents are elated whenever he wears any clothes at all.”

“I’m getting visions of you in church in a full suit, and him in pyjamas.”

Mycroft spreads his hands, having made his point. Everyone laughs again.

 

At night, Mycroft is wrapped around Greg, squeezing a little too hard, his face buried in Greg's chest.

"Do you want to tell me?" Greg asks, running his fingers through Mycroft's hair. Mycroft shakes his head.

"Can I guess?"

A nod.

"Your parents?"

Another nod. Greg kisses the top of Mycroft's head and keeps playing with his hair.

"Shall I talk for a bit?"

A nod and something that might've been a sob.

"Let me tell you about the time that Liz and Abby got those matching scars on their chins..."


	5. The 25th of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's family comes over for lunch.

"Girls," Greg whispers as the three of them huddle together on the couch, nursing their coffees. “We need a plan.”

“That bad?” Asks Abby.

“Look at him,” Liz answers.

They all try not to stare at Mycroft, who has been dressed since 6 and pacing the sitting room since not much later.

“Can we make him help grandpa?”

“I don’t think he’ll be very useful right now,” Greg sighs. “Which is the fastest way to get kicked out of the kitchen as you well know.”

“Dad, why don’t I take him out for a walk. Abby, Gabi, and you can help out here and text me when they’ve arrived so we won’t be back in until they’ve met you and are settled.”

“They’ve met me.”

“I meant the rest. Tell me if that would work.”

“It might.”

Liz gets up resolutely, and runs upstairs to shower and get dressed. When she comes back down 20 minutes later, Greg has managed to get an apple and some tea in Mycroft, so she wastes no time grabbing coats and dragging him out the door with a ‘bye bitches’.

Mycroft’s parents arrive at exactly 12:10, as they should. Greg greets them at the door, leading them into the sitting room where Greg’s parents are lying on the floor on their stomachs playing ‘Ticket to Ride’ with Abby and Gabi. Abby gently picks up the game and sets it on the piano so they can continue it some other time, and they all take turns introducing themselves to each other. Before Greg can sit down, the doorbell rings again. Not 3 seconds later, the door slams open and they hear an exasperated ‘we don’t ring just to give a warning of you breaking in you know’ drift down the hall. Abby giggles and rushes to hug Sherlock. Liz and Mycroft don’t come back until everyone is seated and after they say their hellos, everyone goes to sit at the table.

“Mr and Mrs Holmes, why don’t you sit over here,” Liz suggests sweetly, with a wave of her hand to one end of the table. Greg notices her pushing Mycroft to the other end and struggles to hold back his laughing.

“Oh please, call me Violet,” Mrs Holmes coos, as Liz continues her charm offensive while manipulating everyone into the seats she wants them to be in. Rosie sits between Mrs Holmes and John, Sherlock sits next to John on one side and Liz on the other, and Greg’s parents sit next to Mr Holmes. Abby and Liz exchange predatory grins.

“Grandpa, why don’t you explain what we’ve cooked,” Abby suggests. 

For the rest of the meal, Mycroft eats almost nothing while everybody else conspires to keep his parents and him away from each other and in separate conversations. Nothing much happens besides Rosie throwing around some broccoli and Greg stepping in with a well-timed ‘while in the comfort of our homes lets love who we love openly, shall we?’.

When the guests have left, Mycroft rushes off for a change of clothes, and Greg lies down on one of the couches while the girls and his parents resume their game, with Liz joining Gabi. 

“I have to say I was surprised to hear Violet say that,” Julia starts.

“Yeah me too,” Abby agrees.

“Don’t forget she doesn’t know about Sherlock and John,” Greg says, which makes the girls snort and giggle.

“John and Sherlock don’t know about John and Sherlock,” Liz laughs.

“Thank you for stepping in dad, I wouldn’t have mentioned but I really didn’t expect her to be so...” Abby makes a vague gesture with her hands. 

Gabi nods, “They’re a little oblivious, aren’t they?” 

“And not very nice,” Abby agrees, “did you hear what she said about studying anything other than sciences?”

Everyone nods, and they continue their game while Greg stares at the ceiling.

“Hey girls,” he turns to look at them, “I really appreciate how protective you are of him. You too, mum and dad.”

They nod and smile, and Michel winks at him. Smiling, Greg lies back down and feels himself drift off, listening to the chatting of his family.

When Mycroft walks into the sitting room, he is wearing a jumper over his shirt, rather than the waistcoat and jacket he wore for lunch. He is also carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, but as soon as the girls get up to help him he frowns.

“Girls, quiet, Gregory is sleeping,” he hushes, walking over and kneeling to set down his tray. When he looks up, everyone is staring at him.

“How did you know that, you can’t have seen him from where you stood,” Liz demands.

Mycroft blushes fiercely and straightens his jumper as he stands up. Everyone stays quiet as he puts an extra log on the fire and covers Greg with a throw. Knowing he won’t get out of this, Mycroft starts pouring out tea and handing around the mugs, heaving a deep sigh as he does.

“I can hear it when he falls asleep,” he finally admits, standing in the middle of the room, with his mug, fussing awkwardly.

“That is very romantic,” Gabi decides, “how do you know?”

“His breathing, I can always tell.”

Deciding they probably won’t make fun of him, he sits on the floor in front of the couch Greg is still sleeping on, leaning back. He steels himself for a moment, staring at the cup in his hands, before looking up to meet the eyes of Greg’s family.

“I would like to thank you all for this afternoon,” he starts, his tone stiff and formal.

“You’re welcome dear,” Julia replies warmly. “It’s a shame to see how you clam up, but knowing what they’re like explains a great deal.”

“We’re glad you’re so much more chill around us, honestly,” Liz adds, which makes her giggle when she realizes what she said.

“Never thought you’d describe me as ‘chill’?” Mycroft smirks, knowingly. When Liz nods he waves his hand at the board game in front of them. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Do I explain the rules to you?” Abby asks.

“I would rather figure them out for myself if you don’t mind me watching.”

“Not at all,” she grins, and they return to their game.

An hour later Liz and Gabi have won spectacularly and Mycroft has been invited to challenge the reigning champions, so they lay out a new game. Just as Mycroft notices Greg’s breathing has changed, he also hears a ‘hey gorgeous’.

“Dad,” Liz asks, her tone strict, “how did you know it was him? You have your eyes closed.”

Everyone holds their breath as Greg sits up, looking groggy and a little dishevelled. 

“I could smell him, obviously,” he shrugs.

Mycroft blushes so fiercely he can feel his hair tingle, so he pulls up his legs and hugs his arms around his knees.

“The whole house smells like Mycroft of course, but he was wearing his battle armour perfume earlier for lunch and the couch doesn’t smell like battle armour normally.”

Julia kisses her husband on the cheek and the girls all beam at him, which makes Greg suddenly suspicious of Mycroft’s body language, so he sits up all the way, one leg on each side of Mycroft, and leans over to stage-whisper: “Why are they staring at us, love?”

Mycroft turns his head and whispers back: “They just found out I can hear if you’re asleep from your breathing and you know far more about my scent than many people who have been paid to study me over the years.”

“They find us romantic,” Greg nods, suddenly understanding. He smooths down Mycroft’s hair before dropping a kiss on his head. 

“Are you putting my progeny in their place, Mr. Megabrain?”

This makes Mycroft relax and turn around to look at Greg, a wolfish grin making him look a little dangerous. “Would you care to aid me in this fascinating train adventure?”

“I’m not as good as you.”

“Pish,” Mycroft waves his hand, “books and cleverness, my dear Gregory. There are far more important things.”

Beaming at each other, Greg joins Mycroft on the floor, and while the girls giggle, he looks through the cards they have before they start to strategize in hushed tones.


	6. The 31st of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! This took much longer than it was supposed to, but here we are.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out? Mycroft can order you a car.”

“Dad, this is the 40th time, yes, we’re sure. Mum and Jack are also coming, it’ll be nice.”

“I’ll stop, I’m just surprised you would prefer the company of a bunch of old people.”

“Oh, we’re not doing it for you,” Liz grins, “we’re here for the no doubt amazing alcohol Mycroft is providing.”

Mycroft snorts into his coffee and continues to pretend not to be listening while he reads the newspaper. He looks up when he hears Abby gasp. Gabi is wearing a white dress that contrasts her skin beautifully, with the dark red cardigan Mycroft got her for Christmas hanging open over it.

“Ah, white for New Year’s,” Mycroft nods, setting his mug down. “You look beautiful, Gabriella.”

“Thank you,” she beams at him.

“Brazilian tradition?” Greg asks.

“Yeah, new clothes for starting the New Year fresh. White for peace, and,” she blushes and looks at Abby, “red for romance.”

Abby stands up and twirls her around to look at the dress properly and kisses her firmly, “stunning.”

“Wait, is that why you vetoed turkey for tonight?” Michel asks.

“Trust you to be the one to ask about food,” Liz laughs.

“It’s true though, pork and fish are more appropriate, poultry makes the world turn backwards when we should be moving forward,” Gabi explains, sitting down and pouring herself coffee.

“Is your family very traditional?” Julia asks.

“Not really, but it’s a bit of a mix, considering we live in Rio and my family mostly lives in the countryside. Traditions are different there.”

“And your mum was from the North,” Abby adds.

“Yeah, things are different in the North, more African traditions.”

“Forgive me if I am mixing things up, but if it would help, I could drive you to the sea tomorrow,” Mycroft offers.

“Oh, yes,” Gabi perks up, “that would be great. Even if it's supposed to be summer for all of this.”

“Maybe we can all go, after all, it’ll be our last day,” Julia suggests.

When everyone nods, Greg smiles. “That’s settled then. Now Gabi, can you tell us what the significance of going to the sea is?”

Gabi launches into a lengthy explanation, with some help of Mycroft on hard to translate concepts, as Michel herds the twins to the sink to help with the dishes. Liz mutters something about being a free elf, but she gets steadily ignored.

 

That night, with all of them full of dinner and giddy from the alcohol, they stand in the street in front Mycroft’s house playing with the fireworks Greg bought and chatting with the neighbours. Some of the neighbours have the TV on loud, showing the countdown happening by the waterfront. When there is only a couple of minutes left, Mycroft runs inside to grab champagne and glasses. When he steps out again, Greg’s face breaks open in a wide grin.

“15 seconds,” Greg whispers as he kisses Mycroft’s cheek and takes the glasses from him to hand them out.

Standing on the sidewalk, overlooking the people milling about around them, Mycroft smiles too.

The air is crackling with excitement and some stray fireworks can be heard in the distance as the countdown starts. Mycroft vaguely notices how everyone is looking for the person they want to be kissing when the new year starts as Greg crowds closer to him. 5... 4... They breathe at each other, Mycroft grabbing onto his glass in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other.

3... 2... 1...

Greg kisses him hungrily. They both laugh and wrap their arms around each other, kissing and wishing each other happy things, loads of good times, the very best New Year.

Liz plucks the bottle from Mycroft’s hand and when she pops it, Greg and Mycroft separate, grinning sheepishly.

“Mycroft, you’re so extra. Who gets a magnum Moët Chandon for people that are already drunk?”

Greg laughs and kisses her forehead, “happy New Year to you too, and I guarantee you he bought the crate and has 5 more of these.”

Mycroft blushes fiercely and sets to wish everyone else a happy New Year. “Keep your slander to yourself, Lestrades,” he throws over his shoulder as he finishes hugging Gabi.

When they’re all done kissing and drinking champagne and Liz has set off the last of the fireworks with Jack and Michel, they crowd back to the sitting room. Sitting around with flushed cheeks and giddy smiles they chat happily.

“Abigail, Gabriella,” Mycroft starts.

“Am I in trouble?” Abby grins.

“Abby, apologies. I was merely going to suggest that should you, or indeed you,” he adds, addressing Liz, “find yourself moving to London and in need of accommodation, you may always consider yourselves welcome here. You can consider your rooms just that – your rooms.”

When he notices that everyone is staring at him, some of them with their mouths hanging open, he blushes fiercely. He turns to Greg, looking rather helpless, “did I get ahead of myself again?”

Greg laughs, but his eyes are looking suspiciously sparkly, “no love, we're surprised but grateful.”

“Yes, thank you,” Abby adds sincerely, while Gabi puts a hand on his forearm and leans her head briefly against his shoulder.

“You know, I might just apply to London unis and mess up on the application to a room on campus just to be able to live here,” Liz laughs.

 

Later that night, wrapped up in bed, as Greg has his arms full of naked Mycroft and is lightly scratching his back, Mycroft mumbles against his collarbone.

“Sorry?”

“I was asking if you’re sure I didn’t get ahead of myself,” Mycroft repeats, barely above a whisper.

“Oh love, I know you’re new to this, but you’re all in, and so am I. It’s only natural they are too. This is good.”

“If you’re sure.”

“What’s really bothering you?”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t do casual. I don’t like sharing.”

“We are not casual,” Greg kisses the top of Mycroft’s head and wraps his arms tighter around him.

“I like your family very much.”

“Mycroft, are you telling me that you’re feeling possessive over my family?”

Mycroft buries his face into Greg’s chest deeper, before nodding.

“Look at me,” Greg grabs Mycroft’s chin. “Nothing could make me happier than that Mycroft.”

They look at each other for a long moment before Mycroft decides to put all his cards on the table. “I want you here in my bed all the time, and them in their rooms where they are safe and close. I want them to be happy and do well and to spend time with them. And I want you by my side.”

Greg beams at him and kisses him tenderly for a long moment. “That’s family, love."


End file.
